


Long Enough

by FionaPhoenix



Category: Much Ado About Nothing - Shakespeare
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Modern Era
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:41:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23992465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FionaPhoenix/pseuds/FionaPhoenix
Summary: A modern interpretation of one of the most memorable scenes from Much Ado About Nothing.In the aftermath of a university gala gone wrong, a tragic accident lands Hope in the hospital. Her cousin Bea and family-friend Ben offer each other solace under the lights of a vending machine break room.
Relationships: Beatrice/Benedick (Much Ado About Nothing)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 37





	Long Enough

Beatrice’s stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten all day. She stomped down the corridor to the room with vending machines. They stood, slightly glowing in the tiny space, next to a tiny counter with a tiny sink. She planted her feet before the window of chips, candy, juices, and sodas, but her arms didn’t move.

Nothing made sense.

The array of sweets and snacks blurred together behind the glass, caught in a half reflection of her gown, glittering furiously under the fluorescent lights. She hadn’t had time to change since she first got the call.

_There’s been an accident. You’re cousin, Hope —_

Bea shut her eyes.

_Fractured pelvis. Eight broken ribs. We’ll let you know when we know more, but it may be awhile._

Bea steadied her breathing, angrily pushed a few renegade tears away, and opened her eyes again. She didn’t want any of this junk food. But she didn’t want to go back to the waiting room, either. Anything, but go back there, where their family all huddled together in silent fear, waiting.

“Beatrice?”

She turned. Ben hovered in the doorway. He looked blurry, too, strangely enough, but she could make him out well enough to see he was still in his suit. He looked completely unchanged from the earlier hours, yet somehow transformed. Yes, his blond hair was still immaculate and no creases or wrinkles marred his jacket or trousers, but his shirt was unbuttoned and his tie hung loose and undone around his neck.

Bea watched his mild expression shift into embarrassment and concern. He took half a step back, out into the hall.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “I didn’t realize — ”

He made a jerky, half-gesture towards his own face.

She turned to look at her reflection in the machine’s glass and realized how swollen her eyes were; how badly her makeup had smudged. She forgot she was even wearing any — she usually didn’t bother with any beauty products, but Hope had insisted.

_One more regret._

Bea suspected her eyes were also red, possibly bloodshot, but she couldn’t quite tell in the greyscale reflection.

She blinked and then hastily wiped the tears that spilled down her cheeks. “Only a matter of time, I guess,” she said, her voice somehow steady.

After a few more awkward seconds, Ben spoke again. “I’m sorry.”

She looked back up at him. The simplicity of his statement made her believe it. For the first time in a long, long time, she didn’t wish he’d leave her alone. She gave him a half-smile. And to her relief — her _relief?_ — he stepped further into the room. He ambled over to the counter to turn and lean back, against it.

“You’re quiet,” she said. “More than I can ever remember.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m just…I don’t know what to say.”

Bea nodded, but seeing him at a loss for words unnerved her almost as much as everything else.

“What can I do?” Ben asked.

“Do?” Bea repeated. Her voice was shrill. “ _Do?_ ” Laughter bubbled up out of her; ridiculous and hysterical, but it quickly threatened to turn to sobs, half changing even as she swallowed them, shaking her head.

“Nothing. That’s all any of us can do. And that’s the worst of it all.”

She dug coins out of her pocket and jammed them into the machine, smashing more buttons. Ben looked down at his hands. The machine groaned, and the granola bar dropped, bounced, into the bin below. Before Bea could reach for it, however, Ben spoke.

“I love you.”

Without deciding to, she looked at him. He still stared at his own fingers, his eyebrows lifted slightly as though he’d surprised even himself.

“Isn’t that strange?” He looked up at her then, brows crinkled in thought, but not in dismay. In fact, the corners of his mouth were upturned, easing towards the idea of a smile, but waiting; holding, watching, gauging her reaction.

“Not…really,” Bea managed after a while.

So many years ago, she’d hoped — all right, longed — for him to say those words. She’d expected it, but now, in this moment, it shocked her like a static charge.

“I could just as easily say that I — ” She cut herself off. Whatever cold, muted filter she’d been hiding under was rapidly slipping away. Her composure melted, crumpled, and a swell of emotion, a ripping ache roared up inside her. She covered her face with her hands, !5 pressed flat against her cheeks. “I’m sad. Wrung out. And desperate for any distraction. I could even say that _I’m_ in love with _you_ — after all, I was ready to say it years ago.” The words flew out of her mouth before she could stop them, washed loose by the rush of fresh tears. “But I — I can’t. Not now, not today.”

Her head twitched with an impulse to give him an apologetic look, but she hesitated.

“So, you don’t mean it,” he translated. His tone was somber. Defeated. Was he worried that he was too late?

Bea swallowed and dropped her hands, not caring about what an awful mess she must have deflated into.

“I might.”

His head swung back up, no eyebrow crease, no hint of his playful smile, just wide, hopeful eyes, looking between her own.

She shook her head and waved her hands between them. “But I don’t want to say something like that if it’ll just cause more harm, more hurt — ”

“ _I_ mean it,” Ben said quietly. “And I think you do, too.”

He stood, no longer leaning against the counter. Just that slight difference made him seem so much closer. She leaned towards him, his presence suddenly the most welcome thing in the world and she could feel a smile — the first in what felt like days — spreading across her face —

Like a boomerang, she jumped backwards, throwing her hands up around her eyes, smile vanished.

“Oh, _God_ ,” she moaned, “I’m the _worst_.”

“Why?” Ben said.

“All this awfulness, the whole reason we’re here,” she said, gesturing around the room, out the door, out into the hall. “Hope is lying in a bed somewhere, barely alive, and I forgot. Just standing here, feeling — ” She thought about holding back the word, but the secret was already out. What was the point? “ _Happy_.”

Beside her, Ben took a deep breath.

“Isn’t there a saying?” he said. “‘Take the good with the bad’?”

He leaned forward and lightly brushed his fingers against hers. She thought he might take her hand, but he didn’t.

She gave him a quizzical look. “Don’t you have that backward?”

He shrugged, a trace of his old, puckish grin sneaking up his face. “Am I wrong?”

She looked down and took his hand, winding her fingers through his. “Took you long enough.”


End file.
